Forced Choice
by KaoriCarrie
Summary: Luffy had only 2 options. Kill him and to save the other one, or kill the other one to save him. It's simple really. The problem is, both man turned out to be his treasured nakamas. NO YAOI!


**Forced Choice  
**

A/N: Finally! my first fanfic! it took me nearly a month trying to arrange the sentences right, and this's the best i've got. well it's probably still a mess, i have to admit**. **well what can i do? its my first fic after all... but i'd still give my best for the next chapter anyway (I edited dozens of time). Well... enjoy! Special thanks to my lil sister who hadn't made an account yet for helping me make d story and Aquillaa who supports me!

**Notice**! **This fic is post-poned**! Sad yes, i'm crying all over it. i'll tell you everything now... so, it turned out my idea was already written by another author. yep, IT'S KILLING ME! ! ! what's more killing is that i can't do anything about it, cuz i don't even have a relation with that author and he/she wrote it coincidentally similar with mine. and this is what's killing me the most. your reviews! ! it's killing me softly... with ur words... i can't stand making any of you dissapointed, though i am with myself.

So i'm making you a promise. right now, I'm still thinking of a new plot for this fic. I don't know when it'll come, but i _promise_ you! and i mean seriously! I'll continue this fic with that new and cooler plot!

Sincerely sorry, and i can understand if you don't forgive me, cuz i can't myself. See you.

Disclaimer: I do not own one piece and never will. It's a masterpiece that belong to the one and only(Odacchi)!

**Prologue**

In the heavy and rather sharp rainfall, the blond have fixed his eye tight to the kid's for quite a while now. He was almost sure that his face must be giving away all the despair and regrets that had flooded his entire emotion. He could barely see the reply of his gaze through the thick raindrops, but he somehow knew that it was a furious, frustrated and pained kind of one. Despite the numbness that had incapacitated his body and also his entire crew, the boy felt the heaviest and most excruciating pain he had ever been. Blondy could see that too.

The boy was in real agony, well, all of them were. He knew that there was nothing left for them to do, no matter how desperate they wished they could. The blond cook finally cut the gaze between them unwillingly and turned his head to the opposite direction, to his left, lowered his head a bit, to see his other 8 crew mates. One last time.

The man from below had hurt his neck just to look up and see the exhaustion and regret on the cook's face from afar. He and the others lining up in front of him were desperate to keep their eyes fixed with him. Each of them felt different combination of emotions, though their expressions were the same strained and tearing apart ones. Each of them was frustrated like mad to do whatever it takes to get the handcuff that was strangling the cook's arms painfully off of him. If they could. Unfortunately, their eyes and respiration system were probably the only things that are still functioning.

The man wished desperately that he could at least confirm that his captain was still there, and alive. The problem was, at the time he needed his sight the most was when it betrayed him. He was losing it slowly, plus, the person he was looking for was blocked by the plates beneath the knees of the cook.

He cursed under his breath. His lips trembled and were ripping apart just because of the output. Then, he noticed slightly that the curly cook beneath the ready blades gave a quick glance to them – who were waiting in vain to face the same fate as him – a final, longed, and will-be-missed glance.

And then the cook turned away to face ahead and shut his eyes tight.

He was forced to be ready on the stage. After all, he was the spotlight of the hundreds of thousands uniformed audience, on his knees, with a pair of blades rose above his neck. He was, in fact, ready.

Despite the heavy and noisy rain, even without seeing, and without his hearing system running, the boy could feel the emotions of each of his crew mates. He could pick up a cry of a little powerless reindeer, already lying on the ground with his waist prepared to be kicked by a guard to force him back up.

He caught that blood dripped from his archeologist's lower lips, which was bitten a little too hard, struggling from letting her eyes shut for seeing the dying cook right before her. He also found the broken whispers escaping through his best friend sniper's teeth. Apparently, the sniper was trying to cry out for the cook as hard as possible, but his sore throat and intercepting sobs kept him from it. The boy felt his nostrils flared.

"Stop…"

The boy didn't notice that his whisper was somewhat audible enough for his cook besides him. It caught the cook wondering for an instant, but dropped it as the blades had been lifted to its peak for a full result.

Then they lunged for his neck.

After that, everything went too fast for anyone's notice.

A/N: Yeah, so, that's the end of first chapter... Harharhar! Short and confusing! Whatever! It's just a prolouge afterall! You're so not going to stop me from writing more! I hope I will make better organized chapters later on though... Ameeeen! oh, and, thx for reading! and yea you don't have to push yourself for reviewing anything if you think it's not worth the effort... but i will definitely treasure each of the review i might get! i still hope you guys will though, cuz it pushes me to update sooner. kay, enough babling, see ya!

Holy Spaghetti what did Odacchi made Mihawk do with Zoro in chapter 598! And Sanji's left eyee! .God.

with love

KaoriCarrie


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